A Quote by James Russell Lowell

The green grass floweth like a stream
Into the oceans's blue. — © James Russell Lowell
The green grass floweth like a stream Into the oceans's blue.
Green grass, green grandstands, green concession stalls, green paper cups, green folding chairs and visors for sale, green and white ropes, green-topped Georgia pines. If justice were poetic, Hubert Green would win it every year.
Variations: II Green light, from the moon, Pours over the dark blue trees, Green light from the autumn moon Pours on the grass ... Green light falls on the goblin fountain Where hesitant lovers meet and pass. They laugh in the moonlight, touching hands, They move like leaves on the wind ... I remember an autumn night like this, And not so long ago, When other lovers were blown like leaves, Before the coming of snow.
In my head, the sky is blue, the grass is green and cats are orange.
And joy is everywhere; it is in the earth's green covering of grass; in the blue serenity of the sky.
Grass is the forgiveness of nature-her constant benediction. Fields trampled with battle, saturated with blood, torn with the ruts of cannon, grow green again with grass and carnage is forgotten. Streets abandoned by traffic become grass-grown, like rural lanes and are obliterated. Forests decay, harvests perish, flowers vanish, but grass is immortal.
It was a moment [when I had found God] that so transformed my life. And I say this is so corny, but it was like the grass was green, the sky was blue. And I can't begin to articulate - as much as they say I'm a wordsmith - what really happened.
The walls are white, the track is grey, the grass is green, and the sky is blue...your job is to keep them all where they belong.
'Doc, I can't stop singing the green green grass of home. 'That sounds like Tom Jones syndrome'. 'Is it common?' 'It's not unusual.'
Tis easy now for the heart to be true As for grass to be green or skies to be blue-- 'Tis the natural way of living.
When I put a green, it is not grass. When I put a blue, it is not the sky.
I used to have blue hair, and a lot of people hated that I had blue or green hair, and I'd get so many comments like, 'you're so perfect, but why do you have blue hair?' And it's like, okay, but it's my hair and I can do whatever I want.
The gray-green stretch of sandy grass,Indefinitely desolate;A sea of lead, a sky of slate;Already autumn in the air, alas!One stark monotony of stone,The long hotel, acutely white,Against the after-sunset lightWithers gray-green, and takes the grass's tone.
The miracle of light pours over the green and brown expanse of saw grass and of water, shining and slowly moving, the grass and water that is the meaning and the central fact of the Everglades. It is a river of grass.
The miracle of light pours over the green and brown expanse of saw grass and of water, shining and slowly moving, the grass and water that is the meaning and the central fact of the Everglades. It is a river of grass.
The field was even greener than my boy's mind had pictured it. In later years, friends of ours visited Ireland and said the grass there was plenty green all right, but that not even the Emerald Isle itself was as green as the grass that grew in Ebbets Field.
I loved the title of 'Blue in Green' - as if the color blue was seeping into green, slowly changing it and creating a new color.
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